


Doctor Hurt - Faces

by Nathaniel_Quietly



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-28 20:43:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16249442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nathaniel_Quietly/pseuds/Nathaniel_Quietly
Summary: So for those who havent heard, October is here and we at DC Animated Adventures are teaming up with Nazario Designs to giveaway the complete Batman: The Animated Series on DVD! Chris will draw a villain a day and you just write a short 400-500 word story about that character and you're entered! That simple!Lance and I decided that we wanted to play along as well, even though we're not qualified to win (as we are putting on the contest). Here's my entry for today, Doctor Hurt. (Check outThe DCAA Facebookfor more information.)





	Doctor Hurt - Faces

He wore so many faces. The face of the father. The face of the Adversary. The face of a failed actor. Each one carefully chosen. Each one perfectly crafted to inspire confusion, suspicion. Fear.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at the absurdity.

The domino mask was an inspired touch, he felt. Echoes of Zorro, the hero who both inspired the Dark Knight and reinforced his tortured guilt. A dichotomy, half joy and half pain. Half a life. The lawyer was a better reflection than the Knight would ever really understand. He grinned again at the realization.

The Doctor had thought he’d succeeded, once. He’d broken the Knight’s mind, and, he’d believed, the Knight’s body, too. With the Black Glove he’d shattered the hero’s sycophantic followers club; as Doctor Hurt, he’d worn down the Knight’s physical body with his attempts at replacements. He’d even brought in the Clown to aid in his chaos. He’d been the hole in the things, the missing piece. It had been heaven, a feeling he had been long denied.

Then the Clown betrayed him, attempted to murder him. Poisoned him, buried him. As though such petty annoyances could end his terror.

No one understood. Not the Knight, or his pathetic sons, or his ghastly, grinning foe. He wasn’t just an old relative, or a “devil-worshipper,” or a police psychologist. He was Evil. He was the concept of darkness made manifest, Sin made flesh. He was not sure how he had become this--he had hazy memories of fire against the darkness, and a...presence. Oily black, huge, encompassing. But he Knew, as surely as he knew the feel of his own skin against a cold steel blade, the sound of pretender’s throat torn from its carcass. 

He was Doctor Hurt. He was Darkness Incarnate.

But did that make the Knight the Almighty? An angel, serving His divine grace? A Crusader, standing in opposition to the darkness?

Of course not. A foolish thought, not worth consideration. Doctor Hurt had chosen the Knight because he pretended to the darkness; he made use of its shadows without embracing them. He chose the Knight to put him out of his misery.

Hurt had failed in his initial attempt, been cheated of his just reward. He’d chosen the wrong face, at the end, which allowed the Knight to survive. It was a mistake he would not repeat. Evil was patient, as he had been. He had waited until the Knight was occupied, until the Immortal’s daughter had tried her grand plan, until the Clown had dosed his city. Until the Dark God had tried and failed to overtake the universe.

He had waited. Now, The Doctor was in.


End file.
